Page 67 of A Fae in Finance
“Miri, you can hang up,” Jeff added. “We have some other stuff to talk about.”
I exited the meeting, feeling anxious.
The Gray Knight opened the bedroom door behind me, like she’d been listening in. Which she probably was.
I stood up and turned toward the door. “So everyone except me knew that I would be going to the construction site today,” I said flatly. Doctor Kitten hopped onto the desk and pawed at my hand, as if to sayChill out, homie.
“I do not control what Jeff shares with you,” the Gray Knight said, shuffling the papers in her hands.
“You control whatyoushare with me.”
She looked up at this. It was hard to read the sharp angles of her expression, but she seemed almost surprised.
“Indeed,” she said. “Well, I will share that these are papers. They will help our Builder design our factory.” She flapped the papers about. Then she made a weird twisting gesture and they disappeared. She looked me up and down, appraising. Her eyes lingered on my bare throat. “And I will share that you may wish to ask the Princeling about Roman today, Lady of the True Dreams.”
I frowned. Was this a trap or a hint? Who, or what, was Roman?
“We should get you some new clothes,” she added, before I could ask for clarification. Now she was staring somewhere around my navel, with a slight curve to her lips that I would’ve called a leer on a human. On the Gray Knight, it was probably disdain.
“Oh, I’m good,” I said, choosing with immense dignity not to eye her up in return.
She raised an eyebrow. “Your goodness has nothing to do with your clothing,” she said, and brought her two hands together in a motion like twisting a cap off a jar. I felt a slithering sensation along my skin—it drew in from my wrists and ankles, an uncomfortable tingle on the sensitive underside of my arms. The sensation continued inexorably upward, a brief vise grip at my elbow, a pressure on the wing of my collarbone. Behind it came a soothing softness. When I looked down, my old clothes were on the floor in a heap and I wore a tunic and leggings like hers, only green instead of gray.
“I like green,” she opined.
“‘I’m good’ is a human way of saying ‘no thank you,’” I said. “Just, you know, for future reference.”
She inclined her head but didn’t answer.
With a sigh, I patted Doctor Kitten on the head, checked his food and water, and followed her out of the room. “Does Roman have anything to do with my leaving Faerie?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. She turned left down the hallway, which meant we were going out toward the river. I hadn’t been that way yet.
“Why didn’t you lead with that?” I burst out, exasperated.
“A person must divine some truths for themself.”
I glared at her, but if she noticed, she didn’t say anything. We passed the turnoff to the cafeteria and continued along the hallway. It remained identical to the hallway outside my room, except for the names burned onto the doors.Elsie the Eviscerator,Tomlischai,Emeris the Expunger,Ophelia the Organized, and so on. Was it better to be expunged or eviscerated? Probably expunged.
A few Fae passed us in the hallway. I recognized one or two of the faces from the big class the other night. I waved to them, and they raised their eyebrows at me in return.
Did she meanRomans? Like, ancient Romans? Or modern Romans? Was there a Roman road out of Faerie that would pop me out in Italy?
When we left the Court, the sunless blue sky greeted us. We stood at the top of a hill, and below us a wide, slow blue river wended its way off into the horizon. On the other side of the river were low gray cliffs, topped with tangles of trees.
The Princeling, the Crone, and the knights Red and Blue sat on four horses by the entrance. Two more waited: Sparkles, and the Gray Knight’s silver horse.
“Does it rain here?” I asked.
“Sometimes,” the Gray Knight said. “When it needs to.” She hoisted me onto Sparkles, her thumbs fitted into the dent of flesh at my waist. The saddle appeared underneath me as I settled onto Sparkles’s back.
I looked over at the other two knights. I hadn’t ever paid much attention to them. They sat astride matching yellow horses and didn’t look at me.
“Let us depart,” the Princeling said, and in unison, the horses started down the path.
We didn’t speak on the way down the hill. When the ground steadied out beneath us, we turned to the right—I would’ve called it north, if we were still in New York and this was the Hudson. But the topology was slightly different here, and the air full of magic. Who knew where we actually were, or what cardinal direction we faced?
The Princeling fell back, letting the Red Knight take the lead, and waited until I’d ridden up next to him.
